Wednesday, January 31, 2018

Peter Nolan Smith - CLUB 57 Reading @ MoMA 2/8/2018

Peter Nolan Smith Reading - CLUB 57 READING AT MoMA February 8, 2018

4PM at the CLUB 57 Exhibition at MoMA

11 W 53rd St, New York, NY 10019

Readings by Peter Nolan Smith with friends; Ann Magnuson, Willem Dafoe, and Larry Fleischman

Fotos by Anthony Scibelli, Peter Nolan Smith, and Kim Davis

Video by Eric Marciano

Music by Andrew Pollock

Tickets are free, but first come first served.

Sign in at 2PM and pick up tixs at 3:30.

From FAMOUS FOR NEVER

"New York City in 1978 was $5 short of bankruptcy. Budgets were slashed from every department. Arsonists torched the Bronx for fun and profit. Thousands of cars were stripped to the metal in Brooklyn. Harlem emergency wards were overwhelmed by shooting victims, while heroin ODs became the leading cause of teenager death for Queens. When Staten Island announced a referendum to secede from the city, no one accused the distant borough of treason, because the worst was yet to come."

Sunday, January 21, 2018

How Many Women?

Due to the government shutdown and probably a Trump edict the National Park Service offered no estimate of yesterday's crowd numbers in Washington. The newspapers published attendance in the tens of thousands, however I venture the number was closer to 300,000. Trump congratulated the gathering of achieving the lowest unemployment rates 'ever' thanks to his economic recovery without any mention of unequal pay or sexual harassment, then again, who's surprised at his silence.

Presidential Sunday Day Of Rest

This weekend Donald Trump had planned on visiting his Mar-a-Lago residence, however the inability of the deal maker to cut a budget deal between the Democrats and GOP forced # 45 to remain in Washington, despite the federal government shut down, thereby forestalling his 88th round on the golf course since the inaugeration.

A day of rest if the perfect way to spend Sunday.

Eating Mickie D in your suit and ordering in friends.

Goodbye Jacob Wirth

Last week the owners who been operating Jacob Wirth since 1975 announced that debt has forced him into selling the 150 year-old beer hall in Boston. Kevin Fitzgerald owes over $2,000,000 to the IRS and state as well as employees and food purveyors. Several years ago I met the owner during a slow Sunday and told him how much I loved his establishment. He felt the same way, but love can't pay bills. Despite the sale Jacob Wirth's will probably continue to be a restaurant, since the property is landmarked as a historical site in the old Combat Zone. Of course politicians could change that ruling to build a luxury condo tower. They are future of of zombie cities.

La Eleganza

La Eleganza said hip without having to spell it in big letters.
I had bell bottom trousers with buttons on the split flair, but no one in Boston ever wore these bold threads.
Not even in the Sugar Shack, the home of black pimps of the Combat Zone. The house band was George Clinton's Funkadelics. “We took off our suits and everything and went totally ‘funkadelic,’ which meant we were naked onstage. The Sugar Shack, we used to transform our look. The owners called it ‘Pimps, hos and hippies.’”

Saturday, January 20, 2018

Jacob Wirth - Boston's Bratwurst Himmel


A group of 40-year old Boston College alumni discussed where they should meet for dinner.

Finally they agree upon meeting at Jacob Wirth on Boylston Street restaurant where some of the patrons at the bar have low cut blouses and nice breasts.

10 years later, at 50 years of age, the group meets again and once again they discuss and discuss where they should meet. Finally they agree that they should meet at the Jacob Wirth because the food was very good and the wine selection was good also.

10 years later at 60 years of age, the group meets again and once again they discuss and discuss where they should meet. Finally they agree that they should meet at the Jacob Wirth, because they can eat there in peace and quiet and the restaurant is smoke free.

10 years later, at 70 years of age, the group meets again and once more they discuss and discuss where they should meet. Finally they agree that they should meet at Jacob Wirth because the restaurant is wheel chair accessible and they even have an elevator.

10 years later, at 80 years of age, the group meets again and once more they discuss and discuss where they should meet. Finally they agree that they should meet at the Jacob Wirth's because that would be a great idea because they have never been there before.

Last month I ate at Jacob Wirth's.

They offered a great selection of draft beers and their bratwurst nibbler was the perfect meal before the train or bus from Boston to New York. I also recalled going there with feminists in the early 70s who would get pissed by the bartenders refusing their orders at the bar.

No women allowed.

Those were the days.

But I do believe in equality for women.

100%.

It's only right.

Friday, January 19, 2018

Pizza In The Oval Office

In November 1995 a conservative GOP-controlled Congress shut down America and that weekend a blizzard isolated the President in the Oval Office. Bill Clinton faced down this crisis by ordering a take-out pizza and thirty minutes later a buxom 21 year-old intern delivered the pizza to the Oral Office.

Her name was Monica Lewinsky.

As I said many time the worst thing to happen to America without a federal government was that the President got head and a pizza or a reality version of the XXX classic THE PIZZA GIRL COMETH, but that has never taken in consideration Ms. Lewinsky's feelings.

Their affair lasted eighteen month until January 17, 1998 when Matt Drudge broke the news that President Clinton had asked Newsweek to kill a story about his affair with said intern and other women.

The Big Press ignored the scoop from an Internet free-lancer, however sex in high office gave the story legs and Kenneth Starr, the GOP's independent counsel, conducted a three-year investigation into a crooked Arkansas land deal, the death of White House counsel, Vince Foster, and the Lewinsky sexual scandal.

Bill's wife stood by the President throughout the tears, pain, and humiliation of believing the lies until they became the truth.

During an interrogation by Mr. Bittman, a lawyer for Kenneth Starr demanded, “Mr. President, if there is a semen stain belonging to you on a dress of Ms Lewinsky’s, how would you explain that?”

No other president has been asked that question for the simple reason that none of the recent White House presidents have had sex while in office.

GW BUSH was too Christian to have sex.

His father had been CIA director and hid his afternoon designation with his mistress thanks to well-honed spycraft.

Ronald Reagan allowed Nancy to have sex with Frank Sinatra, but the Great Communicator never got any in the White House from his 2nd wife.

Jimmy Carter merely entertained impure thoughts and Gerald Ford’s wife suffered from the wasting disease of alcoholism. Richard Nixon only masturbated to nude photos of Jackie O and LBJ arranged his dalliances to occur in Texas.

JFK had scores of women in the White House and confided to British Prime Minister Harold Macmillan that he suffered migraines, if he went three days without sex. At state dinners the president would disappear with women into the recesses of the White House. His paramours included Angie Dickinson, Inga Arvad, a Danish journalist, the stripper, Blaze Starr, Pamela Turnure, Jackie's press secretary; Mary Pinchot Meyer, Washington Post editor Ben Bradlee's sister-in-law; two secretaries nicknamed Fiddle and Faddle, and mob moll Judith Campbell Exner. Marilyn Monroe was a beard for his conquests and JFK was too cool to get caught.

Despite being called America's first black president, Bill Clinton was not so cool, however he survived the interrogation and impeachment proceedings to serve out his term, because he had committed no crime.

Clinton denied having sex with Monica by stating that oral sex wasn't really sex as long you are receiving the oral sex and didn't touch any other part of a woman's body.

The American public accepted his definition, because millions of American men realized that they might be faithful to their waves according the Clinton Doctrine and he was re-elected for a second term by a landslide.

His wife supported him to the hilt.

Monica Lewinsky barely survived the maelstrom of media abuse and the former intern graduated in December 2006 with a Masters in Social Psychology.

At present she stays out the public eye and I hope that Miss Lewinsky is faring well, because we will never know the story of her liaison with a philandering president.

I fear th worst.

Rocket Madness in Isaan

Every year Thailand's northeastern provinces hold a rocket festivals to entice the Naga spirits to deliver the right amount of rain for the rice growing season and rocket enthusiasts from every corner of Asia flock to scenic Yasothon to participate in the missile mayhem with their specially constructed 'bang fai naga' rockets.

No one wears helmets or goggles, but many participants drink copious amounts of sura or lao whiskey as an extra safety precaution, figuring that if you get drunk enough, then you will lie in the shade of a tree out of harm's way.

Winners are decided by how long the Bong Fai or rocket projectiles constructed of bamboo or PVC piping and fueled by a mixture of nitrate and charcoal remain in the air. Rockets are required to be at least 3 meters in length. Over 50% never leave the ground, but those achieving take-off fly without any benefit of guidance.

Explosives, lao whiskey, and a four-day celebration are the right ingredients for misadventure as was proven by a potentate from the pseudo-ruling party several years ago. His missile was the biggest in the festival (6 meters) and billed as the acme of bamboo rocketry.

The farmers toasted the minister with lao whiskey.

He lit the fuse with an elite tooth-whitened smile.

The rocket rose from the earth and then veered off into the distance. Everyone cheered the minister. The happy ending on the missile range was not matched by the the village 3 kilometers away, where the rocket landed, blowing windows from the school van and nearby houses as well as scattering rocket debris over the area.

How do you say 'opps' in Thai?

The minister claimed responsibility and did not flee the scene of the incident.

It had to be a first.

If getting drunk and playing with explosives is your thing, then head up country to catch the blast-offs.

It's sanuk mak.

No More Government

Less than five hours remain of January 19, 2018 and the federal government will cease to operate unless the Democrats and GOP can agree on a budget. Donald Trump canceled his trip to Mar-O-Lago to meet with Senator Charles Schumer without any resolution of several issues such as the Dreamer visas for 800,000 undocumented children and health care for over nine million children.

40% of federal workers will be furloughed, parks will be shut, and phones will be answered by machines as always.

Social Security and food stamps will still be sent out.

It's a showdown.

And neither side wants to blink.

Scared Of Sharks

Helicopters have flown over Florida beaches to discover hundreds of sharks close to the shore.

Usually drawn by shoals of fish.

Sharks have no friends, although lampreys hitchhike on the killing machine.

Recently a story from a porno actress' 2006 sexual encounter with Donald Trump has revealed the billionaire's abject fear of sharks.

In a 2011 interview Stormy Daniels related a conversation during a visit to A Beverly Hills Hotel bungalow."

“The strangest thing about that night — this was the best thing ever. You could see the television from the little dining room table and he was watching Shark Week and he was watching a special about the U.S.S. something and it sank and it was like the worst shark attack in history. He is obsessed with sharks. Terrified of sharks. He was like, ‘I donate to all these charities and I would never donate to any charity that helps sharks. I hope all the sharks die.’ He was like riveted. He was like obsessed. It’s so strange, I know.”

She also said that sex was generic.

"It was one position."

I'm guessing it was cowgirl reverse.

As for his fear of sharks, I agree.

The 1975 film JAWS scared me out of the ocean, although these days I'm more frightened of sharts as should be Trump.

It's an old age thing.

Friday, January 12, 2018

Best Punch At CBGBs


Back in the 1970s CBGBs was a rough bar. The Hell's Angels frequented the Bowery bar and no one challenged their claim to the punk rock venue, since the Angels scared off other asshole bikers, although not every night.

In 1978 a packed house of garage rock fans greeted the Cramps' debut and the Akron band performed, as if the world was diving into the sun with the coming of tomorrow.

I Was a Teenage Werewolf, Sunglasses After Dark, Strychnine, and a cover of the Trashmens' Surfer Bird highlighted the show. My hillbilly girlfriend danced to every tune like her veins flowed with moonshine. Alice wasn't white trash, but her West Virginia home wasn't far from the coal-mining hollows of Appalachia.

During the encore the scrawny saxist James Chance of the Contortions climbed onto the stage to fondle two Jersey biker chicks. Their boyfriends stood in the front row. Chance had a reputation for trouble and stuck out his tongue.

The girls thought he was funny.

The biker boys didn't see the humor and jumped onto the stage.

Chance was skin and bones and the biker had mechanic muscle.

It was more a beating than a fight.

A solid right caught Chance on the nose and blood poured onto his dirty white shirt.

Eric Mitchell, b-movie actor extraordinaire, scrambled on stage to rescue his skinny friend. The part-Cherokee warned the biker to stop.

The band kept playing Surfing Bird.

Alice grabbed my arm to stop my joining them. I stayed with her. This wasn't my fight.

The biker looped a slow overhead right and his fist loudly impacted on Eric's nose. More blood splattered everywhere.

Merv the bouncer threw out the bikers.

They went without a struggle.

The 6-3 doorman looked like an Addams family member.

Even the Angels respected Merv. The former discus thrower was a tall man.

The next night Eric entered the bar with a black eye.

Both of Chance's eyes sported the same badge of dishonor.

That night the two were everyone's darlings, because at CBGB's there was never any shame about losing.

Monday, January 8, 2018

March 2017

March began with another Snow Day. People were excused from work and kids stayed home from school.

The trains were running underground, so I traveled from Fort Greene to East Broadway.

The site of the 169 Bar.

The bar was crammed with Snow Day celebrants.

Everyone was happy to be off for the day.

I drank beers with my fellow New Englander, Matt Ford.

We had a good laugh.

He liked my hat.

I went outside.

It was cold and wet under foot.

My sheepskin jacket and heavy boots protected me from the weather.

The jacket had once belonged to Arthur Weinstein, famed nightlife prince.

There was little traffic on East Broadway.

I felt warm enough to make a slush angel.

A young couple thought I was funny.

At least I didn't have to sleep in the subway like so many unfortunate men and women.

I trained north to Catskill.

Charlotta needed help with the house and I could use the work.

Thomas Cole's house was a treasure.

The view was always the same.

Mount Kaaterskill seemed closer than twenty miles.

I wanted to go there.

Charlotta wanted me to work.

She was the boss and I had to be content with tramping into town through the snow.

The snow was only ankle deep.

My boots were thigh high.

After ten years I returned to the city.

Fenway had money.

Mam too.

One day I helped Dave Henderson move a Vortex sculpture.

It didn't weigh much.

I loved his other pieces.

They had no names.

The snow melted quick.

Teddy bears hung from the wires.

They cut a nice silhouette in the blue sky.

I didn't have any work and went to the Gowanus Canal on the F train.

No one was on the platform.

The structure had been built in the early 1930s.

Ten years ago the city spent over $200 million to repair the station.

From the ground I saw nothing of Manhattan.

It was no oner my bourough.

I was now in Brooklyn.

But not for long.

This weekend I was marrying friends in Virginia.

Richmond to be exact.

Go Bus was the way to go.

Paige and Ten Rings were waiting in Petersburg.

Paige was a swimmer. She worked for NGOs. To help the world.